The River Restaurant by Gordon Ramsay – Review

The title only gives away half of it. Of course, it’s a Gordon Ramsay restaurant and if you look hard enough you can also see the Thames from its windows, but this is also a flagship eaterie for one of London’s most fêted hotels, the Savoy. Set the distance of a small street back from the Strand’s craziness, and it’s easy to find through the swing doors, through the reception, down some stairs, through the Gallery restaurant. Although a straight line from the entrance, in many ways, the short journey is quite a trip, mines the Savoy’s history but adds to it a contemporary mixture of shiny and dull, bright and dark, for sale, not for sale. Never a dull moment, visual curiosities litter the route but the River restaurant is a much calmer experience.

Carpeted, with ovular bar on the left, oatmeal walls complement an oatmeal carpet with straight-backed and curved chairs offering a similar, slightly lighter, whiter presence. Tables are wooden or marble-topped and there’s a few pistachio coloured seats and greenery, too. Gold pillars guard doorways and atmospheric lighting, coming from all directions, gives the space a crepuscular glow. Five large Olympic rings illuminate the ceiling nearest the bar and suggest Ramsay and his crew are, once again, going for gold. 

We sit at the furthest end of the restaurant in a discreet, curved corner by the window, sip happily on some fine, chilled Devaux Cuvée D as we peruse the menu. We immediately have questions. As well as the standard ‘starters’, ‘mains’ ‘dessert’, there’s also a seafood section which headlines the menu and includes caviar, shellfish and oysters. Starter or main? As well as or instead of? Julia, our smiley waitress for the evening, confers what I assume; the decision is completely at the diner’s discretion. We fancy some oysters which are also included in the Chilled Shellfish Platter which comes for one or two. The Seabass Ceviche starter is also tempting. Julia expertly guides us through what and how much to order.

The Seabass Ceviche is round, practically turreted, and resembles a tartar more than the traditional slices one associates with a ceviche. An orange ponzu sauce is poured at the table, provides the dish with an exotic, dusky flavour. It’s all quite glorious, comes at room temperature, sprouts with aromatic herbs including coriander and also comes with avocado and penny-sized crispy plantain. 

The Shellfish Platter, as they tend to be, comes with less frills, allowing the quality of the fish do the talking. It’s a sight for sore eyes, is about the size of a twelve-inch record and brims with offerings. It’s hard to know what to eat first, what to eat last. The oysters seem a good bet and are chunky, meaty and, happily, less briny than some. The mignonette is sweet and my friend says it’s the best oyster she’s ever had. The Deviled Crab is a delicacy, served with dots of sprightly lemon mayonnaise and curried jam. The langoustines are cut in half for easy access, the prawns not exactly disembodied but without exoskeleton, also for easy access. And then there’s the snails. 

Only a couple. They’re not on the menu and they’re partially hidden between bowls. They’re not, of course, the common or garden ones, they’re sea snails with barnacles to prove it. Without a pond of garlic sauce to hide in, their extraction from shell sits somewhere between surgical and clinical, a skill in itself and not necessarily for the faint-hearted. Likewise, the eating; I love it but my friend doesn’t. The snails look like naked scampi, are solid and chewy, taste a little like octopus but purer somehow. Whether you like the snails or not, our Jean-Max Roger Sancerre is a perfect companion. 

We swap to Selvapiana Vigneto Bucerchiale for our main course, both of which are beef and ordered medium rare. The Chianti is fruity and a little spicy and evokes the shedding of leaves in Autumn. My friend enters a state of calm and contentment as she works on the Dry Aged Filet of Beef with Peppercorn, which she describes as a friend you can always rely on.

I go for the hard-to-make-at-home Beef Wellington which, according to Julia, makes it one of the restaurant’s most popular dishes. Even in somewhere like, say, the Lanesborough, two people need to order one dish, but here, the kitchen cooks it in portions of six, suitable for all and sundry. An impressively bloody chunk of meat covered with salt crystals, Julia pours Red Wine Jus at the table. Unexpectedly, the pastry has a truffle-flavoured lining. Overall it’s nothing short of spectacular and is a must-order. 

Surprisingly, we still have room for dessert. The mango sorbet and vanilla ice cream are full of flavour and work as a lighter way to finish the meal. The Chocolate Praline Mouse comes with hazelnut brittle which looks like a Parisian’s beret and, actually, slips off when served. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting but the praline bulk is actually solid and reminds of a Christmas treat. The caramel ice cream adds a certain viscosity to a rich and moreish dish. Give the River Restaurant a gold medal it deserves one!